


Store your material responsibly

by bluebells, Danudane



Series: Optional Paz/Din continuity [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Co-Parenting, Demisexuality, Domestic Fluff, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, The awkwardness of early relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27559042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danudane/pseuds/Danudane
Summary: Din finds Paz's porn on the Razor Crest. He takes the discovery well.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Series: Optional Paz/Din continuity [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980532
Comments: 30
Kudos: 195





	Store your material responsibly

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [this video](https://twitter.com/poedjarin/status/1326028194718216192?s=20) from Pedro's other work and cracked a "what if?" joke, but then Dani ran with it and I just finished it.

Paz has been with them for some time now. His intention has always been to eventually return to Alor and the covert once he was satisfied with their safety. They’ve settled into a routine, centered mostly around the kid. 

The little one gets fed, played with, and then put down for a nap. 

It’s a relatively small space they share, and yet it has not been a problem or cause for concern… until now. 

Din is straightening out the bedding when his fingers brush past the edges of what must be a paper catalogue.

A magazine?

He hardly gives it a passing thought. It was likely something Paz found interesting. Weapons, perhaps. Din continues on, gathering the last few items that had been moved out of place and putting them back where they belonged. 

And yet, Din found himself glancing at the fraying edges of paper. 

His curiosity was getting the better of him. Paz wasn’t currently in the room. He could take a peek and the other man would never know. 

Turning away again, he forgoes the thought and continues around the room. There’s a toy for the kid that’s jammed between the bottom of the bed and the floor. Din passes by the magazine once again, pulling the jangly, squeaking frog toy free from its spot and returning it to a basket with the rest of the kid’s toys. 

On his way back around, however, Din can no longer deny his curiosity. One quick skim through wouldn’t hurt. 

As soon as Din pulls the magazine free, his outlook on the situation rapidly changes. 

His eyes go wide in realization. 

The cover is fairly normal. A handsome looking gentleman, only half-clothed. 

But it’s immediately clear this is no weapons magazine. A flip to the inside pages tells Din all he needs to confirm. 

Pornography. 

His cheeks burn and he feels like he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have. It may just be a magazine but it’s certainly… eye-opening. 

He slams the pages back together immediately, still embarrassed to have found it. 

This was Paz’s. Not his. 

He hadn’t expected this from the other man, but who was he to judge… preferences? The few images he’d glossed over were telling enough: strange accessories, outfits, and positions amongst other things. 

Din chokes back a noise of surprise when he hears something. The kid is standing in the doorway, still half asleep but dragging his blanket in one hand and a stuffed frog in the other. Dark eyes slowly blink at him as though asking when he's coming for nap time.

"Hey," he sighs, voice soft, "What are you doing up?"

Shoving the magazine back between the mattress, Din tries to clear the images from his mind before he even goes near the kid. Just as he scoops him up, Din hears another set of footsteps. These are much heavier, and he does not have to guess who. 

Paz himself arrives with a strange sense for timing, releasing his hold on the ladder from the cockpit. Din doesn't realise he's staring until the man's black visor fixes on him, too.

“... Something wrong?” Paz glances around like he isn’t the culprit. 

“Might want to find a better place for your porn,” Din huffs, looking away as he feels the heat rush to his cheeks again. “Somewhere _not_ within the kid’s reach.” His brow furrows and he spares a glance down at the magazine, holding the kid to him a little tighter. 

In truth, he is not angry, more flustered than anything. 

Paz freezes for a moment. “...Oh..” His head ducks and he palms the back of his neck. “That.” His visor flicks between the mattress, the kid blinking sleepily at them, and back to Din. His helmet inclines with a hint of guilt. “I don’t do anything when he’s around.”

Din can feel the blush burn to the tips of his ears. He angrily tries to block out the images that spring to the fore of ‘anything’ Paz could be suggesting. Paz in place of those featured models: muscled shoulders bare and rippling, the chin of his buy’ce tilted in invitation, thighs… open....

Din mentally shakes himself in protest. 

Even the idea of Paz and bare skin…. he… here? On this same ship where Din and the kid… but when? How?

His mind whirls to the likely prospect of Paz alone at the helm while Din and the kid slept. Alone and in the pilot seat. _Din’s_ seat.

There must be a problem with the artificial gravity because suddenly the ground isn't so steady.

Heart hammering, Din suppresses a shiver and wraps the kid in his blanket, covering those big ears. “I didn’t ask.” He can barely get the words out around the unwelcome realisation his mouth is watering, _what the hell._

“I noticed you didn’t have any material.” Paz glances round the modest hold as if the empty carbon freeze and cargo netting would prove his point.

One foot on the ladder, Din shoots him a look of alarm. Paz went through his possessions looking for _porn_? Even if Din kept such things, he wouldn’t be so foolish to keep hardcopies. He’s actually surprised Paz opted for the analog option. Digital was easier to procure and dispose of. But maybe there was something to be said for having an item to hold… an image to touch….

Din wouldn’t know. Images alone never were enough for him.

“I procured my own.” Paz’s voice is smiling like he’s just fixed some significant fault in the ship out of the goodness of his character, and isn’t Din glad?

Din scowls. No, by the Manda, he isn’t _glad_.

The baby warbles at him, pawing tiredly at his chest. Din looks down into the slitted gaze, heavy with sleep. If he’s lucky the kid will settle back to bed and leave Din to his silent mortification in peace.

His hand has just closed around the rung leading to his refuge of the cockpit when Paz asks, “Did you see anything you like?”

Din’s ears ring with white noise. He understands-- but he doesn’t. He blinks at Paz watching him with arms crossed, helmet tilted in curiosity. The dim golden bulb by the weapons locker wraps his shoulders with a burnish that makes them broader than usual, draws Din’s gaze down the powerful barrel of his chest, to a thick waist, thighs and sturdy booted heels that ground Paz in this space he’s made for himself in their home. He’s not presently wearing his armour and even that choice is an intimate one that humbles Din by its gesture of trust.

He squints, blinking his vision clear as though it could improve his hearing.

“What?”

“I don’t know your tastes.” Paz is quiet and warm in a way that makes Din’s heart thump, and he’s reminded that when Paz got him on that bed on Kamino, the man hadn’t balked when Din just asked to be held. “I don’t know if… well…” He rubs the back of his neck again and the self-conscious gesture loosens some of the tension banding Din’s chest tight. “If you want some company. Some time. If you want... a hand.” 

Din resolutely stares at the locker and not the other man. His face burns thinking of what those hands could do, the memory of their strength kneading the tension from his muscles, powerful and so careful.

In his periphery, Paz inclines his head in a shallow bow, dignified and as close to shy as Din will ever see him. His voice is quiet and secret. “I’m here.”

Din stares at him, mute. Paz returns the look patiently.

In his arms, the baby’s head tilts back with the force of his yawn, eyes already closed. His head lolls to Din’s collar.

“I’m going to put him to bed,” Din mutters and almost slips in his haste to ascend the ladder, ignoring how absurd it looks when he’s just left the kid’s bed with Paz down below. 

In a rare show of pity, Paz doesn’t call after him to point this out. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come suffer through Paz/Din found family headaches with us on Twitter: [Danudane](https://twitter.com/Danudaine) | [Bluebells](https://twitter.com/bellsybuilds)
> 
>  **Permissions:** You do not need to ask for permission to make translations, podfics, fanfic or fanart for any of my stories-- I do ask that you link back to my original work and let me know because I would LOVE to share what you've created.


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